TMNT: Contest
by princessebee
Summary: 2k14verse. Raphril. All Vern Fenwick wants is for April to notice him. Now it seems he's finally got his chance. Or... not. Takes place before the events of Weightless.


April O'Neil rounded the corner and into Vern Fenwick's sight.

Vern immediately snapped to attention, maintaining his nonchalant slouch against the side of the Fenwick Express, but tilting his head, thrusting his hands deeper into his pockets, rounding his shoulders, striving for a devil-may-care offhandedness as though he met beautiful, ambitious investigative reporters in dark alleyways all the time.

Though that had certainly occurred with April more than once in recent memory.

April caught sight of him and lifted her chin in greeting, her stride picking up. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she wore joggers, yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt with an unzipped hoodie over the top. No makeup, but the bright green she favoured for her short, practical nails was visible even in the meagre light thrown by the street lamps. She was gorgeous.

Vern's lips tugged up in a smirk as she came up to his second new vehicle in as many weeks.

"O'Neil," he enunciated in a voice that, to his ears, sounded smooth as whipped butter.

April flashed him an indifferent smile and moved immediately towards the passenger door without so much as pausing.

"Thanks so much for doing this, Vern," she said as she climbed into the front seat, her swiftness prompting him with a startled fumble to follow suit. "I don't know anyone else with a car big enough or I wouldn't have bugged you."

"Hey, don't even mention it!" Vern turned the key in the ignition and the engine growled to life. "The Fenwick Express is always at your disposal. Just think of me as your personal chauffer, on call around the clock to get you where you need to go. Always on hand to help out a damsel in distress, like a knight in shining steel. The modern day urban gentleman. Delivering your needs on rubber wheels. No matter what they are. Including sustenance. Hey, we'll probably work up a case of the munchies here, how about afterwards we hit the Corner Bistro for a burger and – "

"How far away is it?"

The voice was a growl rough as gravel in Vern's ear and he leapt in his seat and nearly lost control of the vehicle, jerking the wheel violently to the left and causing the van to swerve dangerously on the quiet street before wresting it back into the lane. Daring a glance to his right, Vern saw that the biggest of the mutant turtles he had so recently – unbelievably, preposterously, against all likelihood – gone on a crazy adventure with was leaning in-between the front seats, glaring straight out the windscreen, his jaw set and looking intimidating as hell, exactly as he had the first time he had startled Vern from the back of his van. Though at least that time the vehicle hadn't been on the move.

April – after an aggravated squeal and a tsk prompted by the van's lurch – was replying to the enormous mutant: "About a ten minute drive at this time of night. I really appreciate this, guys – this bookcase has been in storage for a couple of years but now Taylor's gone and I'm gonna try it on my own, it would be great in the spare room."

"No sweat," the burly turtle replied bluntly, still staring directly ahead, obstructing Vern's view of April. "Wasn't like I had anything better to do."

Vern heard April snicker, tried to concentrate on the street ahead as his heart pattered out a frantic rhythm.

"No hyping for Mikey's upcoming Summer Sizzle album tonight then?" she said to the turtle – what was his name again? Ruffalo? – with a note of playful teasing in her voice.

The over-sized terrapin snorted. "He'll just have to get by without me."

"I'm sorry, _how_ did you get back there?" Vern broke in, unable to stand it anymore. His heart had been hammering away against his sternum since the mutant had first made his presence known and listening to the easy, comfortable way April interacted with the massive, surly creature did his head in completely.

He flicked his gaze to the rear vision mirror to sneak a look at the green behemoth hulking in the rear of the van only to find the turtle's golden eyes meeting his directly, cold and hard as flint. Vern couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Ninja," the turtle spat the word brusquely, as though it explained everything and then abruptly broke the gaze to return his attention to the street ahead.

Oooookay then.

"I'm so excited to have my own home office," April carried on, oblivious to the tense exchange that had just occurred. "It's gonna be great to have a dedicated space to work in."

"Donnie said he could come install those upgrades on Friday," the gruff turtle told her and Vern drove on and listened to their offhand, mundane conversation with a distinct awareness he was decidedly left out of it; that there was a familiarity here he was not a part of. He and April had never spent time together outside of work – despite his best efforts – but it dawned on him that the reason for her increasing unavailability of late was being explained right then and there, in the natural and relaxed manner April and the menacing, heavily muscled turtle interacted. She'd been spending time with the bizarre family of four. A lot of time, by the sounds of it. Funny – he'd just assumed they'd all gone their separate ways. Certainly, he hadn't heard from them since that night beneath the underpass.

"In here," April directed him after she'd tapped in her access number at the storage yard and the gates had swung open, admitting entry to his van and its strange cargo. Her unit was in a dark aisle, far back from the gates. Of course at this time of night there was no one around and for the first time Vern realised that the reason she'd wanted to do this so late was as cover for her inhuman friend. "Yep – just here. This is it."

Vern braked the car outside her unit and behind him the red-masked turtle pulled back out of sight and he could see April once more. She flashed him a slightly sheepish smile in response to the incredulous glare he gave her.

"Sorry I didn't tell you," she offered as behind them the van rocked as the turtle got out. "It's just – I forgot you're not used to them the way I am."

"Oh it's no problem," he went for self-deprecating wryness, shrugging with exaggerated nonchalance. "Looking in the rear vision mirror to find myself eye-to-eye with a mutant talking turtle, just another average day in the life of a man of action. Hey, I'm almost used to it myself now." He chuckled, but April was already getting out of the van. With a resigned sigh, Vern followed her.

The turtle was even bigger than Vern remembered, towering over them both like something out of the Egyptian pantheon, appearing all the more terrifying and monstrous in the shadows. This was definitely 'the scary one' – the others hadn't radiated anywhere near as much menace – or animosity, Vern mused as the turtle flicked scowling gold eyes on him for a penetrating second while April unlocked her unit, her back to them. Vern attempted a smile but it felt weak and wavery and probably made him look like a puppy rolling over onto his back, a suspicion that was confirmed a moment later when the turtle's facial expression didn't change at all – but his eyes glittered with unmasked contempt.

"Okay Raphael," April rolled up the unit door and flicked on the light inside, illuminating the cramped space with brilliant fluorescence. "It's just there up against the wall. I'll make sure the van's all clear."

Brisk and business-like, she shifted in between them without a backwards glance and the huge terrapin – Raphael – moved into her storage unit to grab the bookcase. Feeling decidedly like a third wheel but eager to get April's attention somehow, Vern stepped awkwardly into the unit and skulked up to where Raphael was shifting boxes and other odd ends of furniture away from the obviously heavy antique wooden bookcase that loomed against the aluminium wall.

"Uh – need a hand?" Vern offered as Raphael, his path cleared, grasped the bookcase by the top and the side and prepared to lift.

Vern's words arrested him however, and once again those hard amber eyes slid sideways to focus on him. Here, under the bright bulbs overhead, every impressive inch of musculature and armoured plating – all of it extensively decorated with a motley of scars – was on lurid display and Raphael's fearsome countenance was illuminated starkly and Vern realised he was mistaken in thinking the creature looked scarier in the shadows. Slowly, deliberately, Raphael scanned Vern from head to toe with those pitiless eyes, and then back up again. Then, unmistakeably, his lip curled ever so slightly in a sneer.

"No. Thanks."

Raphael made no attempt to keep the scornful hostility from his voice and Vern, his knees suddenly rubbery, backed out of the unit and went to help April out instead. Hey, who needed to impress a girl by lifting heavy furniture anyway? He could assist her in other practical ways.

But he pulled up short when he got to the rear end of the van only to find himself greeted by April's rear end. She was kneeling in the boot, clearing space amongst the camera equipment and other odds and ends Vern kept in there. In the tight, pale blue yoga pants she wore, every curve of her magnificent derriere was generously accentuated beneath the splay of warm light from the overhead bulbs set into the ceiling of the van and Vern paused to take advantage of the opportunity for a long, jaw-dangling moment as he contemplated her ass and tried to ascertain whether or not she was wearing panties.

Suddenly Raphael was at his elbow, weighty bookcase clasped effortlessly in his grasp, glowering down at Vern with a thunderous expression on his bestial face. Vern's jaw flapped open and shut like a goldfish as Raphael carefully set the bookcase down on the cement and slung one muscular arm from the top in a deliberate manner, the colossal bicep bulging.

"Somethin' I can help you find?" he queried in a low, dangerous voice and Vern felt fear trickle like cold ice down his spine.

"Uhhhh – " he began, but then April was shimmying out of the van, standing up straight and turning to them with a smile.

"Hey! Great! There should be enough space in there now, thanks Raph." And she skipped off towards the unit leaving the two men in their uneasy face off, Vern choking on air and Raphael looming with deadly intent in his stare.

After a moment in which Vern continued to stammer and shuffle, his heart once again thudding painfully in his chest, Raphael just shook his head disgustedly and hoisted the bookcase again, sliding it smoothly into the back of the van and shifting it until it was fully in and with enough space for him to ride back with them.

Then he turned to Vern, shoulders back and hands in fists by his side and Vern could see he was flexing, the light from the van throwing the rock hard outline of his burly arms into bold relief. Raphael fixed a menacing glare at Vern and seemed about to say something when April again emerged from her unit, arms filled with boxes.

Vern's first impulse was to step to her side and relieve her of her burden, as much to escape Raphael's wrath as to win himself a few brownie points, but scarcely had the thought flared than Raphael was already next to her, calmly and firmly taking the boxes from her grip despite her (admittedly half-hearted) protests.

"Thanks," April said, her slight breathlessness indicating the boxes were heavy. "Just thought I might as well pick up a few other things while I'm here."

Raphael grunted in acknowledgement as he eased the boxes into the boot and Vern bit back the gorilla joke that immediately sprang to mind, sensing it would be a vast mistake that would doubtless win him a spot in the Hall of Famous Fuck-Ups. Instead he turned to April, meaning to offer assistance with anything else she might want to take out of the unit, but was halted mid-breath when he saw her.

Her gaze was fixed on Raphael as he shifted and arranged the boxes around the bookcase in the boot of the van, her candidly captivated manner suggesting she was oblivious to being observed. Vern glanced back at the mutant turtle, noting that the musculature of his arms and calves rippled and bulged as he moved, though the shell obscured what was doubtless an equally impressive back. Looking back at April, he saw the way her eyes flickered over the terrapin and realised, with a numbing sense of the surreal, that she was unmistakeably _checking him out_.

Before he even had time to process this, Raphael was turning to them with a casual thumbs up, indicating all was set, then he hoisted himself into the boot and settled his massive bulk down next to the bookcase, head hunched over, only centimetres from the ceiling, looking uncomfortable but ready to endure with an expression as grim as though he were about to go into battle.

April was immediately focused once more, rolling the door of her unit down and locking it, then clambering back into the front seat next to Vern, who for once couldn't think of a single damn thing to say.

The drive back to April's place was basically the same as the ride over: Raphael hung over the front seats and chatted easily, if brusquely, with April whilst Vern attempted at regular intervals to join in the conversation. April accommodated his efforts but Raphael never responded and Vern could _feel_ the turtle's cold stare, malevolent and challenging, lifting the hairs on the back of his neck every time he interrupted. Nervous and on edge, sweat prickling damply under his arms and around his crotch, Vern found himself nattering away pointlessly, fumbling his words over and over. The more he stammered and rambled, the stonier Raphael became and by the time they turned into the side street April's apartment overlooked, the relief Vern felt was like plunging into a pool on a scorching summer's day.

"Don't we need to get in through the front doors?" he queried, confused by where April had directed him to pull in but unspeakably grateful the enormous mutant turtle would not be able to help them take the bookcase into the building. Of course, he wasn't entirely _sure_ how he was going to manage it, but that could be figured out – and without the ruthless judgement Raphael would surely assess him with inhibiting him from arriving at an impressive solution.

"You're off the hook, Vern," April was smiling at him easily, pushing back strands of hair from her face. Behind them, Raphael had already opened the van doors and was manoeuvring the bookcase onto the dark and quiet street. "Raph got a pulley system set up from the fire escape. He's just gonna winch it up. It'll be done in a snap!"

"Oh," Vern managed to say as April opened the door and got out. "Okay then."

Unable to stop himself, he followed her out onto the street, reluctant to merely content himself with saying goodnight from the van. Raphael had concealed himself in the shadows under the fire escape, behind the carefully arranged bookcase, but Vern could still feel his icy glare level on him as he approached them.

"So, uh," Vern clapped his hands together awkwardly, frustrated with the night's events but powerless to change them. "You guys all right from here then?"

Raphael snorted quietly. "Fine," he said curtly and April glanced at the surly turtle with a look of amused indulgence before turning to Vern, whose gut twisted with defeated yearning.

"Thanks heaps Vern, I'll buy you lunch tomorrow."

Vern's heart momentarily lifted but then April was grinning at Raphael where he lurked in the shadows and he could not miss the note of genuine enthusiasm in her voice and contrast it against the friendly obligation she had spoken to him with.

"And I owe _you_ dinner. You're staying right?"

Raphael nodded once and a little smile broke across his fierce face, as though he couldn't help it. _Don't hurt yourself_, Vern thought bitterly.

"You bet," the turtle said to April, and sickeningly, her smile widened as Vern watched what suddenly felt like a private exchange in aghast disbelief.

"Great, we can start season two of _Orange is the New Black_," she said and Vern dully realised that implied they'd _already_ watched season one together and that April had not mentioned this, not any of it, not once, in the weeks since he had discovered talking mutant ninja turtles walked beneath the earth. "Okay, I'll go up and get the window open, let the ropes down. Couple minutes, okay?"

"No problem," Raphael replied and Vern couldn't help but notice the terrapin was noticeably cheerier in demeanour – for whatever that counted, anyway.

"Thanks again, Vern," and April was suddenly there, giving him a quick squeeze that felt as perfunctory as it would've looked and stepping back with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Lunch tomorrow, okay?"

"It's a date," Vern heard himself reply with bravado that rang all too false, but April had already turned and was hurrying to the corner that turned onto the street where the entrance to her building was.

He stared after her for a moment, then exhaled wistfully before a low noise that could've been a snicker made him whirl towards the fire escape, realising he was now alone with Raphael and that Raphael all too obviously Did Not Like Him. At all.

Raphael stepped out from under the fire escape, head up and chest puffed out, treating Vern to another sneering once over that had his balls shrinking up into his body.

"She's a complicated chick, huh?" Vern said before he could stop himself and gave himself a savage mental kick even as a grotesquely ingratiating smirk twisted his lips.

Raphael merely cocked a brow from where he towered above the camera man and Vern realised that whilst the giant turtle was still terrifying, he was no longer being _intentionally_ menacing and that instead there was now a glint of amused contempt in the dark gold of his eyes.

After an agonisingly long pause during which Vern's throat grew as dry as though he'd inhaled a whole ten pound sack of sand, Raphael spoke, in a voice heavy with condescending mockery:

"Thanks for the ride, Jeeves. Your services are no longer required tonight."

Then he turned his shell on Vern and vanished back into the inky darkness beneath the fire escape.

Cheeks burning and palms clammy, Vern knew there was nothing more for him to do than get back in his van and drive away.

So he did just that.

As he navigated his way back to his own apartment, his mind churning to process the implications of all he had witnessed that night, he was unable to stop himself from contemplating Raphael and April, together on the couch in an apartment he had never been invited into, chowing down on takeout and watching hot lesbian action and he wondered why it was that a boorish mutant turtle had been able to get closer to the object of his desires in a matter of weeks than he had managed to achieve in two and a half years.

"Must be a ninja thing," he muttered to himself. "Unfair advantage. I better take up Tae Bo."

**ooo**

__I gave Vern such a hard time I started feeling sorry for him and had to remind myself he is a jerk by having him reduce OITNB's complex narrative on misogyny, racism, homophobia and classism in the prison industrial complex to 'hot lesbian action'.__


End file.
